NOT ANOTHER OPEN RP POST
Dec. 3rd, 2012 02:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wunderkind
an open rp post
(it is what it says it is)
-1-
pick a character
-2-
leave me a comment. maybe a scenario, maybe an AU scenario, maybe a picture, maybe a word,
maybe a request to resume old game canon, maybe just a comment.
i don't care. do your worst.
-2a-
helpful note: i am currently obsessed with the Walking Dead, Christmas, and vampires. can you combine those into one tag?
-3-
let's get it on
disclaimer: we probably won't get it on
+ there are no promises i will take this seriously
oh my god never be sorry never
Date: 2014-06-12 08:11 pm (UTC)Yeah, I don't think devastated is quite the word for what Evans would be feeling, if all of your hair were to fall out. I mean, I'd be devastated, but she might be able to carry on with her life.
[Because whatever hang-ups Lily Evans has got, they can't have anything to actually do with James' hair. James' hair is basically perfect--he could stand to do the finger-comb thing a little less, maybe, but that's just a stylistic difference and preference, isn't it. Just because Sirius was blessed with hair that looks absolutely perfect without being touched throughout the day doesn't mean that everyone was granted that same gift. The unruly locks of James Potter often require help.
(Also: the finger-comb thing really is a little annoying and juvenile, but that's about the start and stop of things on the list of what Lily Evans and Sirius Black agree upon.)
Anyways. He holds out the tea-cup to lovelorn James Potter, best mate with the questionable methods of fliration, staunch companion and steady righthand man--who is, coincidentally, doomed--]
Break your nose in the Forbidden Forest. It's right here, see, there's the dark waggly bit that's your nose, and the trees are here. That's what your doomed for, my poor lad. Also I think this bit here is the Maiden in Hat cluster, which means you're going to be laughed at, probably by a girl.
[In exactly the same tone, without breaking the line of conversation, he concludes:] And also you've got a bit of egg and tea on your upper lip. Just there. Does she find that attractive? Maybe your tea leaves will tell us....
too late i am, where should i deliver my profuse apologies
Date: 2014-06-13 01:04 am (UTC)What he settles on, after digging around the sentence some, is camaraderie]
Likewise, mate.
[He caves into the grin easily, reaching out with his free hand and tugging on the ends of Sirius' hair. He's certain the loss would spread the feeling out like a pandemic about the school in a matter of hours. It's always fallen utterly perfect, even when he's so much as just rolled out of bed. James doesn't even think it gets split ends which is just all sorts of baffling- but he can't be sure and likely, it bears investigating.
But he is appreciative, rather than envious. To be envious would imply that James lacks confidence, feels self doubt and insecure- which has simply just never been true. He thinks highly of himself, enough for three people to be sure, and more importantly- he subsists entirely on sheer force of will.
He behaves as if the world- as if the very laws of reality will simply bend themselves, rewrite and deposit the desired result right into his lap, for no other reason than he wants it to. Should that fail- Sirius will simply bend it for him, neat as anything, done and done. So really, the things James has any room for concern for, carry a lot more weight and gravity.
More disturbingly, to be envious would be to imply that James covets anything Sirius has, as if he deserves it less, and the concept is as foreign to him as the knowledge that muggleborns really do fly in little tin cylinders with wings. There is nothing that James has ever had, will ever, or doesn't but wants rather desperately- that Sirius can't have just as much of. So no, even at his most frustrated, when it won't simply conform to look windswept in just the right way, he has never been envious.
But a mutual appreciation for good hair, that is capable of devastating an entire population between them, is not enough to spare Sirius the dark look he receives moments later. James straightens immediately, wiping the back of his mouth and forgoing all discretion in doing so, a sharp rough motion.
One: How could you not tell him?
Two: How could you not tell him since breakfast?
Three: Merlin, what if she's already seen it? And that's why she won't look around at him now? What-]
That can't be my nose. It's not been that waggly since the last time I broke it, 'sides the trees are hardly going to crawl up into the tower, just to duel me.
[Because obviously, he would put up a valiant fight against the tree branches first, none of that idiotic stumbling over roots nonsense that Peter is always prone to, bless him.
So she could have looked at him now, if it hadn't been for Sirius and his dubious idea of what constituted important information to divulge and time frames to divulge them in]
If only they carried such wisdom, Padfoot. [He tips the tea towards him, eyes it critically, and sighs as if the leaves are both disappointing and utterly unconcerning] They're only mentioning the itching powder hiding unexpectedly in your cloaks.
um into my open and loving arms????
Date: 2014-06-13 06:31 pm (UTC)Never where it counts, of course. Loyal to the bitter end. But: occasionally laughing at him is definitely a pastime. Sorry, Potter.
Of course, that's no reason to go tipping itching powder into his cloaks, but Sirius isn't much bothered. Or at least, he gives the illusion of not being bothered: arms folded over his chest, leaning back in his beanbag chair to fix James with a sceptical look. There are few people in the world, wizarding or otherwise, who can manage an artful and cool lean back in a beanbag chair. Sirius Black is, of course, one of them.]
Your tea leaves are telling you that I'm going to fall victim to itching powder? Sure it's not warning you, as it's actually your cup and leaves? I mean, I'm just saying, mate--
[He shrugs, blithely. The friendly bearer of what might be bad news.]
And perhaps it's not trees that are going to break your nose. Could be leaves, right, they're a derivative of trees, and then--
[He sits up a little, suddenly, eyes wide--cuts himself off, staring right beyond James, right in a very Lily Evans-y direction--]
Don't look.